


Give me a Crown and Call me Persephone

by nightlight9



Series: Sterek Bingo 2018 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College AU, Flower Crowns, M/M, Playing With Mythology, Stiles’ Friends are Well Meaning Jerks, art student derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-07 15:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: Ever since he first saw Derek Hale reading under a tree in the courtyard and glaring at anyone that got too close, Stiles has been hooked. Stiles’ friends, on the other hand, look at Derek and see trouble. Too bad Stiles refuses to listen to them and leave Derek alone. Besides, he can’t understand how they can think that someone who spends his time making flower crowns is a bad person.





	Give me a Crown and Call me Persephone

Stiles really can’t help the dreamy sigh that escapes his lips when he catches sight of Derek Hale walking into the cafe. There’s a smudge of bright green paint on his left cheek, and his eyebrows are furrowed in an intimidating way, and Stiles thinks that he’s beautiful. 

Across from him, Amy turns around to see what’s caught his attention. As soon as her eyes find Derek’s form, she groans. “Stiles, no. We’ve been over this.”

They have. Probably enough times that Stiles can recite the speech she's about to give him from memory alone, which is fine seeing as that means he can still stare at Derek without missing any important information. 

“Derek Hale is bad news.” She clenches her hands together, a tell that she’s frustrated. “You have got to stop looking at him like he might have hung the moon, Stiles. He was arrested last year in the middle of one of his classes. They handcuffed him and everything! He breaks people for fun, Stiles, come on!”

The thing is, Stiles knows that she’s not wrong, not about the arrest anyway. After the first time he was told about it, Stiles hacked his way into the police database to get the full story. Derek was arrested for assault. He had been going to pick up one of his friends, but when he heard commotion from inside the house he let himself in. And when he saw his friend cowering under the table with a black eye while his father threw glasses at the floor in hopes of hitting his son, Derek attacked. The charges against him were dropped when the full story came out though, and Derek was acquitted. 

As for him breaking people, Stiles isn’t even sure what that means. 

“Stiles,” Amy groans again. “This has got to stop!” When Stiles just shrugs, watching as Derek accepts his coffee with a nod at the barista before turning and walking back towards the door, she buries her head in her arms against the table. “Why can’t you find someone nice to lust after,” she asks, voice a whine. 

Stiles hides his smile in his mug before shrugging and changing the topic.

—————

“Seriously, Stiles,” Marcus asks, nudging him harder than necessarily. They’re waiting for the lecture hall to clear out so that they can go inside for their next class. Derek is down the hall from them, sitting on the floor with his nose buried in his sketchbook, pencil flying across the page at a furious pace. If Stiles had been staring at him, well, he wants to know who could resist a sight like that. 

“Did you know that Derek is a smoker?” Marcus says it in a conversational way, faking pleasantries as though he was talking about the weather. “Sam sat next to him in her art history class, and she said that the smell of ash on his clothes was so strong she almost moved seats.”

“That’s nice.” Stiles is hardly paying attention. Derek’s curled his lips in and is biting at them, something he does when he’s thinking deeply about something. Stiles thinks it’s fucking adorable, but he’s actually watching someone else. 

A girl down the hallway seems to be steeling herself to talk to Derek. She’s standing with a group of her friends, and she hasn’t taken her eyes off of Derek since he sat down. One of her friends nudges her forward. It’s all she needs to take a deep breath and cross the hall.

At first, when she starts talking to him, Derek doesn’t seem to register that she’s there. He doesn’t even look up from his sketchbook. She glances back her friends, slightly dejected, but when they gesture at her to try again, she nods and steps closer to Derek. This time, when she greets him, Derek glances up at her. His surprised expression hardens as she talks. Whatever he tells her in response makes her frown, nod once, then walk away with her head down. Her friends shoot Derek dirty looks, but he’s already gone back to his sketchbook. 

Stiles probably shouldn’t be amused by the whole ordeal, especially because the girl looks like her heart was torn from her chest, but he can’t help but feel slightly good about the fact that Derek turned her down. 

What can he say, he’s a terrible person.

Marcus waves his hand in their direction. “See! Dude, Derek is awful. He didn’t even give that poor girl a chance!”

Stiles rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone to look at the time. “That doesn’t mean he’s awful, Marcus. You can’t expect him to be gracious to every person that approaches him because he’s hotter than the sun.”

People start streaming out of their classroom, and Marcus throws up his hands in defeat. “Whatever, dude. You’re impossible. Come on, let’s go grab our seats.”

With a snort, Stiles gets to his feet and follows after Marcus. Honestly, he doesn’t see what the big deal is. Ever since they found out about his little crush, all of his friends act like Derek is the worst person in the world that Stiles could be interested in. They take turns telling him different stories about how awful he is, and Stiles doesn’t understand. Sure, Derek has made some questionable decisions, and sure, he glares more than he smiles, but that doesn’t mean anything, not really. But, unfortunately, all of his friends are convinced that he’s the worst. 

Oh well. It’s not like Stiles is going to listen to them. Derek doesn’t seem that bad at all, and Stiles thinks that he has a right to decide who he likes all on his own, with or without their approval. It’s not like it’s going to go anywhere anyway, so he doesn’t even really know why they’re all so concerned.

—————

Stiles is laying in the grass in the quad, stretched out on his back and basking in the sun’s warmth. He’s just finished a huge exam for his coding course, and the break from studying is well deserved. 

He’s thinking about whether or not getting up to find something to eat would be worth the effort when someone shouts and trips over his legs. Sitting up, Stiles comes face to face with a very disgruntled Derek Hale, who’s kneeling on the ground where he fell over Stiles. 

Up close, Derek is breathtaking. The tips of his ears are red with a blush as he clambers to his feet and hikes his backpack back onto his shoulder. Stiles wants to reach out and rub his hands over his cheeks, but resists. “I’m so sorry,” Derek mutters, stepping away from Stiles. “I’m running late for class and I wasn’t watching where I was going and-.”

Stiles raises his hand to cut off his rambling, and Gods isn’t that a sight. “Hey, no worries dude. There are no hard feelings here.”

Derek’s lips quirk into a small smile, before he glances at his watch and curses. “I really have to go. I’m sorry again.”

And then he’s gone, scurrying away before Stiles can say anything else. He watches him go, a smile playing on his lips from their interaction, then goes to lay down again when something catches his eye. 

Laying in the grass a few feet from him is an intricate looking flower crown. When Stiles picks it up, he's surprised to see that it is made from metal, bent and welded to look like flower petals and then painted. Stiles doesn’t know much about flowers, so he can’t pinpoint what type they are, but the white petals are delicate and so detailed that they look real.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, watching in awe as the light plays off of the crown. Did Derek make this? It’s the only explanation, seeing as he’s been the only person to walk by since Stiles laid down. He knew that Derek was an art major, but he never expected him to make something like this. One thing’s for sure is that he definitely needs to find a way to give it back to him.

—————

It should be easy for Stiles to return Derek’s crown to him, but now that he needs to find him, Stiles doesn’t run into him anywhere. He doesn’t tell any of his friends about the crown, though he probably should seeing as a few of them share classes with him. But there’s something about it that feels too personal, and Stiles doesn’t want to give that up.

He’s standing in line with Sam waiting for their coffee order to be called when he finally catches sight of him walking past outside. “Derek,” he calls, abandoning Sam and rushing after him. “Derek, wait!”

Stiles is almost surprised when Derek actually stop, turning to look at him in surprise. There’s a spark of recognition in his eyes, that makes Stiles preen, before he notices the bags under his beautiful eyes. Where he’s normally composed, he looks almost haggard. “Dude, are you alright?”

Derek shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest and closing off his expression. “Can I help you?”

Shaking himself, Stiles remembers why he chased after him. “Oh yeah, sorry. I uh-. The other day, you dropped this crown and I wanted to-.”

His lips part in surprise, revealing his bunny teeth. “You found it?” When he nods, Derek smiles and Stiles is blown away. “I thought I had lost it. Do you-. Can I get it back?” He flushes. “I-. It’s for a project I’m doing and-.”

“Yeah, of course. I wanted to get it back to you sooner, but hopefully this isn’t too late. I-uh. I don’t have it with me though. I didn’t want it to get damaged in my backpack so I left it in my room. I can go and get it, if you want to wait. Or-. Or you can come with me.”

Derek considers it a moment, before hoisting his backpack back up and nodding. “I would like to come with you, if that’s alright.”

Stiles smiles in agreement, trying not to look too excited. He can see Sam watching them from the cafe window, gaze narrowed into a glare. She’s on the phone, probably telling one of their other friends that he’s finally crossed the line or maybe she’s scheduling some sort of intervention, but all he does is wave at her before leading Derek in the direction of his apartment. 

“Is your friend going together mad that you left,” Derek asks, falling into step with him. 

He shrugs, giving Derek a sideways smile. “Nah, she’ll understand.” In an act that’s probably too familiar, he bumps their shoulders together. “No worries, okay.”

Derek dips his head down, hiding a soft smile that makes Stiles’ stomach flip. How his friends think that this man is bad news, he’ll never know. 

Something just occurs to him. “Oh! By the way, I’m Stiles.”

Derek narrows his eyes, as if just noticing that they hadn’t introduced themselves. Stiles hopes he overlooks the fact that Stiles called his name to get his attention. “Derek.”

“So, Derek,” Stiles mutters after they fall into silence. “Can I ask what the flower crown is about? I mean, it’s beautiful, but I was wondering what project it’s for.”

Instead of getting mad about his question, Derek smiles. “It’s for an independent study. I wanted to combine my love of art and my fascination with mythology, so I’m making the crowns based on various Greek mythological figures.”

Stiles blinks at him. “That’s so cool,” he breathes in awe. “The one that I found, whose crown is that?”

Tilting his head to the side, Derek’s smile turns sly. “Persephone’s.”

It’s hard to say whether he’s more caught off guard by the answer of the mischievous spark in Derek’s eyes. Either way, he’s definitely excited about it. “That’s so cool! What other crowns have you made?”

Derek seems pleasantly surprised by the question, and launches into the discussion with vigor. Hearing about the project that he cares so much about, Stiles can’t help but fall a little harder for the guy. Not only is he good looking and passionate and smart, he’s also _nerdy_. And Stiles thinks that that’s amazing.

“My roommate thought that I should have done something more delicate for Aphrodite, but I think that there’s something undeniably strong about her, you know.” Stiles tilts his head to one side while he unlocks his apartment door, indicating that he’s still listening. Derek huffs at the gesture, and explains. “Everyone thinks that she was a recklessly wild being, representing desire and pleasure, but when you think about it, she was the master of her own body and sexuality, and I didn’t want to reduce her to something delicate and breakable.”

Marcus is sitting on the couch when they walk in, not doing a very good job at pretending to play his video game. Stiles rolls his eyes, knowing that Sam must have called him already, and introduces them. “Hey, Marcus. This is Derek.” He turns back to Derek, whose expression closed off as soon as he saw that the apartment wasn’t empty. “Derek, this is one of my roommates, Marcus. 

Derek nods at him, and Marcus kind of waves in response. Stiles just shakes his head at the display. “Come on Derek, my room is back here.”

Marcus makes a curious noise when Stiles curls his hand around Derek’s wrist to pull him along, and Stiles ignores him. “I think you’re right about Aphrodite,” he says instead, trying to get Derek to relax. “She really is strong, but people would rather remember her as someone tainted and manipulating than remember that she’s a goddess in her own right.”

Beneath his hand, Stiles can feel the tension leave Derek’s frame. “I think people are intimidated by such a prominent and powerful display of female pleasure.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to do that to her.”

“You’re so cool,” Stiles breathes out, grinning over at him.

Derek preens at the praise, but gets distracted as soon as Stiles pushes his bedroom door open. It’s-. Well, it’s not like the place is a mess or anything, but there is a lot of stuff jammed into the small room. Stiles has books piled everywhere (both for his degree and for casual reading), clothes have been left haphazardly piled on a chair in the corner, and the cork board taking up one side of his room with various colors of string tacked across it looks like a crime scene all of its own (he uses it for his classes and typically tries to turn it around when people come over because, as his roommates have pointed out, it’s a little strange. They’ve affectionately dubbed it the Murder Board, and Stiles can’t even really fight the name).

Derek’s crown is setting on the desk, shining brilliantly in the light streaming in from the window. Stiles is almost sad to see it go; he liked studying the way that the metal warped into flowers. But he’s even more upset knowing that he won’t have a reason to talk to Derek anymore, especially now that he knows how interesting he is.

Instead of moving to pick up the crown and going back to whatever he had been doing before Stiles found him, Derek moves to the board. “What’s this?”

Stiles barely manages to keep himself from groaning aloud. He doesn’t even know how to explain it without sounding psychotic. “It’s uh-. Well, I use it for-.” He sighs. “It’s my murder board.”

Instead of finding an excuse to leave then and there, Derek looks back at him from over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. 

Stiles does his best to explain. “I use it to layout the cases we’re discussing in my classes, so that I get a better idea of the crime and investigation. It helps me see how everything connects together.”

Derek sounds surprised when he asks, “You want to be a cop?”

Stiles shrugs, leaning back against the bed. “Do I not seem like cop material?”

A faint blush appears on Derek’s cheeks before he turns back to look at the board. “I don’t know. I guess I was just caught off guard. You seem so much-.” He pauses, and Stiles barely resists leaning forward in anticipation of whatever he’s going to say. “I mean, you just seem too alive to work around so much death.”

“It’s not all about solving murders, you know,” he says, smiling softly before pushing forward to join Derek by the board. Gently, he reaches out and straightens some of the strings, all too aware how close he’s standing to Derek, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Something about Derek’s open expression makes him want to be honest. “I didn't want to do criminology, not at first,” he admits softly. Derek turns to watch him curiously. “My dad is the sheriff back home, so I’ve seen firsthand how the job tears him apart. I hated what it did to him, and never wanted that for myself.”

“What changed your mind?”

Standing so close is too much. Stiles moves back to perch on his bed, and Derek follows, taking the chair by the desk. He doesn’t even glance at his flower crown, giving Stiles all of his attention. “I’m good at it. I’m good at picking and picking until I get to the heart of the problem. I took my first criminology class on a whim, and fell in love with the work. I like knowing that I can make a real difference for someone in need.” 

Derek smiles at him, and Stiles warms. “Then it sounds like a perfect fit.”

Sitting with Derek should be weird. Stiles has liked him for so long, has watched him to try and figure him out, but they don’t know each other. Stiles has hardly told anyone about why he chose his degree, and hardly anyone ever asked. They assumed he picked it because of his dad, even though that was one of the biggest reasons he never wanted to be an officer. But talking to Derek is easy. It shouldn’t be, but it is. And Stiles doesn’t want it to end. 

He decides to take a chance. “Hey, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Derek frowns, and Stiles thinks that he’s going to shut him down before he gets the chance to even ask, but instead he tilts his head and smiles. “I have to finish a paper for my history course, and then probably get some more work done on my independent project, but other than that I don’t have any plans.”

“Do you want to get some lunch?” He blurts out, flushing immediately afterwards. “I mean, if you’re hungry. I have a class later, but I would like to hear more about your project.”

There’s a long moment of silence where Derek watches Stiels closely, assessing him. Finally he smiles, small and soft. “That would be nice,” he says. “I was actually on my way to find something to eat when you found me.”

Stiles shoots to his feet and beams. “Then what are we waiting for! Do you like curry?”

Derek lifts the crown into his backpack carefully before rising to his feet. “”Lead the way.”

—————

Stiles and Derek kind of fall into a friendship after that. They meet up and have lunch together, will share a table in the library while they study, and they text each other all the time, random things about what’s happening in their day. And it’s all so easy.

The only problem is that, no matter what Stiles tries to say to his friends, they still think Derek’s dangerous. And now that that Stiles is actually spending time with him, they seem to dislike him even more, convinced that he’s going to break Stiles’ heart.

It all comes to a head when Stiles sitting with Marcus in the grass, enjoying the sunny afternoon.

“Stiles!” Seeing Derek jogging toward him across the quad, a bright grin on his face, makes his heart rate spike. Beside him, Marcus tenses up, as if readying himself for a fight. Stiles shoves him hard, and stands up. 

When Derek stops a few feet from Stiles, his cheeks are flushed and he looks so pleased. Marcus steps closer, but Derek pays him no mind. He has eyes only for Stiles. “Hey, Stiles! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Stiles doesn’t pretend that the words don’t give him a thrill. “What’s up?”

“I finished all of my crowns!”

The smile on his lips grows. “That’s awesome! Can I see them?”

Ducking his head, Derek huffs out a laugh. “Of course you can. I was actually hoping that you would be willing to help me out with the last part of the project.”

He’s already nodding before Derek finishes his sentence. Not only does he like Derek himself, but Stiles thinks that the project is cool. He’s happy to help in whatever way he can. “What do you need me to do?”

Extrodinarily, Derek blushes. Marcus growls a little at the sight, and Stiles is just so done with all of his friends and their overprotective concern for him whenever Derek is around. He turns around and glares at him, not caring that Derek is standing right there, especially when he sees how Marcus’ display seems to make Derek shrink. “Can you knock it off! Derek is my friend, and I’m sick of all of you guys freaking out when he’s around. You don’t even know him, you’ve just decided that he’s a bad guy, and that fucking sucks. I’m done letting all of you feel like you’re doing something right by glaring at him. You’re not protecting me, you’re just being dicks.”

Carefully, Derek reaches out and rests his knuckles against Stiles’ back. “Stiles, it’s alright, I know what everyone thinks about me.”

That makes him explode. “It’s not alright. It’s fucked up. Sure you’re a little closed off sometimes, but that's because everyone seems to expect something from you, and it’s the only way that you can protect yourself. But Derek, you’re kind and warm and so fucking smart. I’m done letting people mistreat you, especially my friends. Done.”

Marcus takes a step back and blinks at the pair, his mouth hanging open. “I-. Dude, I’m sorry. You’re right. I just-.” He meets Derek’s gaze before lowering his eyes in shame. “I’m so sorry, Derek. We really don’t know anything about you, except for the rumors that everyone else has spread, and we’ve been judging you on that.” Derek shrugs, but Marcus keeps going. “I do know that you make Stiles happy, and that should have been more than enough for us to stop thinking that you’re a bad guy.” He points behind him in the direction of the apartment, and takes another step back. “I’m going to leave you guys alone, alright. Maybe next time you’re around, Derek, we can do a better job at trying to get to know you. And if that’s not something you want, I get it. We’ve been huge asses to you. Just, know that I’m sorry.” He nods in Stiles’ direction, but keeps his eyes on the ground. “I’ll see you later, okay.”

With that Marcus leaves them alone. Stiles turns and looks at Derek, trying not to flush when he sees how surprised he is. “Sorry.” Stiles rubs at the back of his neck.

It’s impressive how, even after only a few weeks , Stiles can read the assessing look on Derek’s face. “You didn’t have to do that.”

The fire ignited in Stiles’ chest burns. “Like hell I didn’t. They never gave you a chance. Before they ever met you, they had already decided that you were this villain, and I’m sick of it. You’re my friend, Derek, and I care about you a lot. Everything that I said about you is true. I’m sick and tired of people expecting you to be something without giving you a chance to be yourself! So you know what, I’m not sorry! I’m not. It needed to be said, and I’m not sorry about being the one to say it!”

Derek blinks at him without responding. Stiles stares back, not willing to back down, not about this. Finally, Derek reaches out and takes Stiles’ hand, a blush coloring his cheeks. “Thank you.” His voice is soft.

Stiles squeezes his hand, willing his heart to calm down. “Anytime.” He means it. 

Derek tugs on their hands, and takes a step back in the direction he came. “Are you busy right now?” He shakes his head, already following him. “If you’d like, we can get some ice cream and talk about the project.”

“Are you buying?” He’s teasing, but Derek just smiles.

“Of course.”

Stiles’ heart flutters at the simple way that Derek agrees. He lets Derek pull him away, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that whispers that this feels different than the other times that they’ve gone out. He can’t help hearing it though, not when Derek doesn’t drop Stiles’ hand. Not when he keeps smiling over at him with so much fondness in his eyes that it makes Stiles shiver. It feels like a date. And Stiles, well. Stiles can’t help but think that maybe he might have a chance with Derek after all.

—————

“Are you sure that you want _me_ to do this,” Stiles asks, for the fifth time since they’ve started. He pulls at the soft white fabric covering his chest and Derek bats his hands away. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He pulls back and meets his gaze, expression thoughtful. “Though if you’ve changed your mind, I understand.”

That makes Stiles puff up. “I haven’t.”

Derek smiles in a sly way that says he was just trying to get Stiles riled up. “Then leave your tunic alone. Laura should be here soon, and then we can get started.”

Stiles huffs, but flops down in his seat to wait without responding. The second part of Derek’s project involves having various people dress up as each mythological figures for a photo shoot wearing the flower crowns. Stiles was obviously on board with the idea; he thought that it was kind of brilliant actually. And then when they arrived at the studio just off of campus, Derek had handed Stiles the white tunic and Persephone’s crown with a shy smile. 

Stiles had been confused. “You want me to be Persephone?”

Derek had nodded and explained that he picked his models based on their personalities and images, not because of their gender. “Gender doesn’t matter. This is art. And you’re the only person that I want to be Persephone.”

That had settled things quickly, even if Stiles does kind of hate the tunic. The fabric is almost silky in texture and falls in layers across his chest. One shoulder is bare, the tunic stops just above his knees, and he feels exposed.

The door of the studio bangs open and the woman who walks in is tall and striking. Stiles understands immediately why Derek chose her to play Hades. With straight dark hair and a piercing green gaze, the woman carries herself with an air of confidence that demands respect. 

Derek frowns when he sees her and gets to his feet, crossing his arms across his chest. “You’re late.”

Laura rolls her eyes, and laughs at him. “Hades arrives when she wants.”

When they stand beside one another, Stiles can see the resemblance between them without question. They’re both full of edges and marked by a darkness that is as beautiful as it is untouchable. He wonders if the whole family is as unfairly attractive as the siblings. “Just go and get changed so we can get started.”

Ignoring him, Laura pushes further into the studio and approaches Stiles. “Hello there, you must be Stiles. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Stiles glances at Derek while he takes Laura’s offered hands. Her grip is strong and sure, but Stiles barely notices because he’s too busy watching the blush appear on Derek’s cheeks. 

Laura makes a thoughtful sound and lets his hand drop. “Let me go get changed, then we can get started.”

She disappears, and Derek steps closer. “I’m sorry about her,” he says softly, reaching out and adjusting Stiles’ tunic. “She can be a lot to handle.”

Stiles shrugs and smiles. “It’s alright. She seems like a lot of fun.”

Derek frowns at him. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’s already cocky enough, she doesn’t need that ego boost.”

Laughing, Stiles bumps their shoulders together then retrieves Persephone’s crown from the table by the window. Since Derek got it back, he’s finished it, studding the white lilies with vibrant pomegranate seeds and painting the petals with shadows. The effect is simple but amazing, and it matches Persephone’s characterization enough that the connection between her and the crown is irrefutable. 

“Let me.” Carefully, Derek takes the crown from Stiles hands, placing it on his head gently. They’re standing so close, nearly chest to chest, and the moment between them is heavy. Without breaking eye contact, Derek trails his fingers over Stiles’ cheeks, tracing over each mole in reverence. Stiles holds his breath, pretending that his heart isn’t beating out of his chest. Derek’s gaze drops to Stiles’ lips and stays there. Stiles licks at his lips subconsciously, and Derek leans a little closer and-.

“How the hell am I supposed to get this dumb thing on,” Laura yells from the changing room. Derek steps away from Stiles immediately, though his hands linger on Stiles’ jaw a moment longer before falling away. His cheeks are a bright red. 

“Give me a minute to deal with her and then we’ll be ready.” Stiles nods, not trusting himself to say anything. “Put the cloak on, okay. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Derek’s turned around, Stiles closes his eyes and sucks in a few deep breaths, trying to regain his bearings. Derek was going to kiss him. Derek would have kissed him if Laura hadn’t interrupted them.

Even though they’ve become good friends, and even though Derek has seemed a lot more tactile and affectionate after the confrontation with Marcus, there was still a part of Stiles that expected to be shut down if he ever tried to change their friendship to something more romantic. After all, he spent months watching as everyone who approached Derek got turned down, spent weeks getting to see firsthand how those interactions made Derek almost uncomfortable. No matter how much he opened up to Stiles, and no matter how much their friendship seems to change, Stiles never expected that Derek might feel the same. 

It’s a heady feeling, knowing that he might have more of a chance than he thought. 

Before he can get swept away by his thoughts, he shrugs them off and focuses on the moment. They have a photo shoot to get done, with Derek’s sister no less, and that needs to come first. And then-. Well, and then maybe they can come back to that near-kiss and try again. 

The cloak Derek left out for him is the color of night itself. The rich suede fabric is studied with small red gems. It’s the perfect contrast to his white tunic, and it hangs all the way to the ground, brushing over his bare feet. There’ also a bouquet of daisies for him to hold, so he gathers them up and moves to the staging area to wait for the others. 

It doesn’t take long for them to join him. Laura looks striking in a black tunic. Her hair down and flowing around her face, and atop her head, Hades’ flower crown glints like steel. Like Persephone’s crown, Derek has chosen lilies for Hades’ flowers. He explained that he liked the connotation that lilies are funeral flowers, and he liked that Persephone and Hades would be the only pair within his collection to share a flower. For Hades, Derek painted the lilies the color of ash, highlighting the petals with fiery red embers inside their cores. 

Laura whistles low when he sees Stiles, turning to grin at her brother. “I’m impressed, Derek. He looks great.”

Derek’s expression softens from being all business to something pleased and fond. “Thank you. This project, it means a lot to me.”

She reaches out and ruffles his hair affectionately before moving to Stiles’ side. There’s a cloak waiting for her too, deep red in color, but when she reaches for it, Derek shakes his head. “Not yet,” he breathes, looking at them from behind the camera lens. “I want a few pictures without it on.”

He does a few shots of Stiles on his own to start, calling out blocking directions for him as he goes. When Laura’s character is introduced in the pictures, Stiles is kneeling at her feet with his collection of flowers clutched to his chest. He tries to stare up her in fear and awe, and hopes that it’s captured on camera. Derek then instructs Laura to reach for Stiles and pull him to his feet. When she caresses his cheek, Stiles can’t help but compare it to when Derek did the same thing only minutes earlier. Instead of making him feel warm, there’s an emptiness there that makes him almost cold. 

Laura wraps her arm around his waist and holds him close, but instead of getting into character, all Stiles can think about is how Derek is right there, watching him stand with someone else. It’s an absurd train of thought, and Stiles knows that, but he can’t help thinking that way.

“Stiles, are you alright?” Derek sounds so concerned that it makes him feel bad.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Derek watches him closely for a moment for nodding and bringing the camera back up to his face. “Just try to relax, alright. You look so stiff.”

He shoots a few more pictures, pausing to have Laura put her cloak on, but then Laura pushes away from Stiles with a sigh. “Hey, Der. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Derek gives Stiles a considering look. “We’ll be right back, okay. There’s some water bottles over there if you’d like something to drink.”

Stiles feels flushed and uneasy, so he welcomes the interruption. “Thanks. Take all the time you need.” He means it too. He needs time to get his bearings back and get back in the role. It was easy when he was by himself to feel like Persephone. But with Laura there, he was just too distracted. And that's not fair to Derek. This project means everything to him, and Stiles needs to try harder to stop being so weird about it. 

Grabbing a water bottle, Stiles takes his cloak off and settles on the couch. He closes his eyes and leans forward against his knees, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He can do this. He can do this for Derek. He is Persephone, for crying out loud. He can do anything. 

Stiles can’t say for sure how long he sits like that before he hears Laura and Derek approach him. When he looks up and opens his eyes, his mouth goes dry. Laura is back in the clothes that she came in, and Derek is wearing Hades’ tunic. His shoulders are strong and broad, filling out the fabric with raw strength. Stiles cant stop staring at his bare knees.

“What?” That’s all that he can say. 

Derek blushes. “Laura thinks that I should be Hades. She convinced me that it would be a good idea.” Looking suddenly shy, Derek ducks his head. “Is that alright with you?”

He’s nodding furiously. He can’t help it.

Laura claps her hands and smiles, all edge. “Perfect,” she purrs, gesturing for them to go to the staging area. When Stiles reaches for the cloak, she shakes her head. “Leave that behind, Stiles,” she instructs. He looks for Derek for conformation, and when he shrugs, Stiles forgets about the cloak. 

This time, it’s easier for Stiles to fall into the role. Kneeling at Derek’s feet, Stiles has no problem looking up at him in nervous awe, and when Derek reaches for him, it feels as natural as breathing to follow his lead and leave the flowers behind. Laura lets Derek lead the shoot even though she’s behind the camera. She remains silent as she takes each shot, and eventually Stiles forgets that she was ever there to begin with.

All that exists is them in this moment, Hades and Persephone, caught in a dance of life and death and love and separation. Derek brings his hands up, cupping Stiles’ head between them. Stiles closes his eyes, unable to continue to stare at how bright Derek is. He thinks, just maybe, that Derek is thinking about kissing him, and when he feels Derek move closer, he thinks that it might be happening. But then Derek presses their foreheads together, and strangely enough, it feels more intimate than kissing ever could.

“That’s the shot,” Laura breathes from somewhere in the distance. Stiles can hear the camera snapping in succession, and then Derek is pulling back. Stiles opens his eyes just in time to see Derek smile at him, big and bright and so genuine. 

Stiles hears the camera flash one last time, and then Laura puts the camera down. “I am a genius. That was-. Damn, that was good.”

Derek reaches out and takes Stiles’ hand, squeezing gently, before he turns to smile at Laura. “Thank you.”

She winks at them as she picks up her bag, already moving to leave. “Anytime, little brother. It was nice to meet you, Stiles. I hope I’ll see you around.” She pauses at the door. “Oh, and Derek. Don’t let this one get away. I like him.”

Stiles hardly notices her leaving after that, because Derek uses his hand to pull Stiles back against his chest. “I don’t plan to,” he whispers even though Laura is already gone.

The closeness without an audience suddenly makes Stiles nervous. “I-. You-.” He swallows. “You make a good Hades.”

Derek smiles, and brushes his hand along Stiles’ cheek. “Jaded, dark, surrounded by death?”

His humor makes it easier for Stiles to breath. Rolling his eyes, Stiles bumps their arms together. “Mysterious, misunderstood, and yeah, maybe a little dark.” He leans into Derek’s hand. “Like I said, it suits you.”

“Well, if anyone could ever get past Hades’ guards and see him true, it was Persephone.”

Feeling bold, Stiles turns his head and kisses Derek’s palm. “I see you, Derek. I see you.”

“I know you do,” Derek breathes in response, before surging forward and then they’re kissing. Derek’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, and Stiles can’t imagine anything else ever being so perfect. The kiss itself is simple and chaste, just the press of their lips together, but it makes Stiles’ toes curl all the same. 

When Derek finally pulls back, it’s because he’s grinning too big to keep kissing. The sight of him looking so happy and content makes Stiles’ stomach swoop. 

“Derek,” he whispers, afraid to break the moment between them. There’s just something that he needs to know. “I-. I have to ask; why me?”

Derek’s smile doesn’t falter as he nuzzles his nose against Stiles’ cheek. “Stiles, even though your friends gave you every reason to believe that I was cold and cruel, you never treated me that way. You were nice to me, and genuine, and then when they tried to prove to you that I was dangerous, you fought against that mindset and found out on your own who I was. Not a lot of people go out of their way to understand me. Not a lot of people try and see past what’s on the surface. I know what people say about me; I’ve heard all the rumors. But you never listened to them. You got to know me, and defended me, and after that it was so easy to fall for you. I was in the middle before I even knew what was happening.”

Stiles kisses him again, unable to help it. For a moment, Stiles thinks about his friends, tries to guess what they’re response to this is going to be. He thinks that they’ll be happy for him, especially when they see how happy Derek makes him. But even if they’re resistant at first, Stiles has already fought for Derek once. And he would do it again in a heartbeat. They may think that Derek is Hades, but Gods damn it, Stiles is Persephone. And, as Derek tilts his head and kisses him deeper, Stiles knows without a doubt that he’s worth fighting for.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the flower crown prompt for Sterek Bingo 2018


End file.
